


The smell of an old closet

by marynn_kokoelma



Series: Inktober - Boulet [One-Shots] [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Happy Memories, M/M, Safe Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 02:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16188218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marynn_kokoelma/pseuds/marynn_kokoelma
Summary: As a kid, younger than ten, Will had spent a lot of time hidden in the old closet of his father room. The closest was small and dark, it was filed with the scent of their detergent and the after-shave of his father.





	The smell of an old closet

As a kid, younger than ten, Will had spent a lot of time hidden in the old closet of his father room. The closest was small and dark, it was filed with the scent of their detergent and the after-shave of his father. It had gotten quite comfortable time after time, a blanket roll in a corner as a throne for young Will, and a nice coat as blanket when it was getting cold. He had managed to hide some cookies in the pockets of an old parka his father was never wearing. He could touch both side panels by extending his legs and arching his back. It was his favourite spot in the house, a sort of nest to go to for escaping the reality when it was becoming too much for him. Even as a child he would see too much, imagination already so develop but field with the monster under his bed.

Every time they moved, his father moved the closest with them, and each time Will would redo his little sanctuary. It lasted until Will was almost fifteen, it had been quite some time since he was too tall to stand correctly in the small closest, forced to keep his leg up his chin and his back arched. One more moving and his father had disposed of the closet, leaving it on the side of the street for someone to pick it up. “You need to learn how to face the world Will, no more hiding” he had said, without even looking at his son while starting the car. The following years had been tough for Will, not having his usual coping mechanism, so he builded other defences. He gradually stopped looking people in the eyes, stopped trying to fit in…

He tried to let it go away while growing, and almost managed to relegate it to something inconsequential, but the feeling stayed deep down. It was the reason Wolf Trap had appealed so mush to him. It had the same smell of that old closet: the same wood, the same old polish to it, a bit of leather and stale smell. So he bough the house, making it into the same kind of safe place the closest had been before, reducing the surrounding space. He almost never went up-stare, using only the living room and the amenities down-stare. It was his new safe space to go back at the end of the day.

Accepting to go see a therapist, “not therapy only conversations” he remembered Hannibal saying, was something not far from breaking his limits, but he wanted to continue his job, so he had to… He entered reluctantly the office, ready to be his worst self, just enough to pass the test but not enough to make the experience pleasant. But then the smell hit him, old leather, old books and wood. Fuck, he could let himself be tempted to relax here.


End file.
